


Misuse

by zarabithia



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-06
Updated: 2005-11-06
Packaged: 2018-11-19 09:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11310264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: After Bruce winds up in Arkham, Clark and Dick discover that all roads lead to Bruce, even when they shouldn’t.





	Misuse

**Author's Note:**

> So! This fic was originally based on rumors that occurred at the time of DC's "One Year Later" timeline. Those rumors had Bruce being put in Arkham after a mental break and Dick taking over as Batman. That sounded horrifying, so at the time I wrote this fic to cope.

When Clark had been growing up in Smallville, one of the values his parents had pressed most upon him was the idea not to misuse his powers.In the beginning, their definition of misuse had simply been ‘showing off.’ As he’d gotten older, their definition had expanded and been reinforced by Jor-El and Lara to include any use of his powers that didn’t help others.

 

Clark was very thankful that neither his birth parents nor his adoptive parents were here because there was simply no way he could claim any altruistic motive in his current activities.

 

He had been perched, for the past half hour, on the roof of a long ago built, but recently abandoned warehouse that stood in close proximity to Arkham Asylum.It was close enough, in fact for Clark’s eyes and ears to see and hear everything that was going on in Room 4 – current home to Bruce Wayne.Clark stood close enough to see a man Clark regarded as his equal in every sense of the word, stronger in some cases, sitting in a ball in a corner of his cell.It was close enough to see the ball occasionally rock back and forth.It was close enough to see those large, strong hands continually fold around each other. It was close enough to observe that, even in his impaired state, Bruce’s feet were able to keep a steady beat completely independent of his body’s rhythm.

 

Most importantly of all, Clark’s location was close enough that he could hear the occasional names mixed in with the usual grunts, whimpers, and gasps.Knowing what Bruce’s mental state had reduced him to still hurt Clark, but his last bit of solace clung desperately to the knowledge that “Clark” was mumbled alongside “Dick,” “Barbara,” “Tim,” “Jason,” “Alfred,” “Stephanie,” “Cassandra,” and “Selina.”Clark realized how far he had drifted from Bruce when he had no idea who half of those people were.He did know, however, that they were family because the words “Mom” and “Dad” occasionally slipped out too.

 

No one else in the Justice League were mentioned alongside the rest of Bruce’s family.Clark tried not to feel proud about that fact.Too frequently, Clark wondered if the fleeting moment of gratification he felt when Bruce whispered his name was what brought him back to this roof every night.

 

He wondered what his parents would think if they knew.He didn’t imagine they’d like it very much.

 

Though it was easy to become absorbed in the sights and sounds of Bruce’s room, Clark never forgot which cesspool of a city Arkham resided in.His powers allowed him to remain a degree of cautious vigilance even while being thoroughly misused to spy on his friend.Thus, while one ear was focused entirely on Bruce, Clark was still able to hear the soft thud of the man who landed on the roof behind him.

 

Clark turned to face the intruder and didn’t quite have to fake the smile that he placed across his face.It wasn’t an intruder at all, but rather the one man that belonged on the rooftop more than Clark himself.

 

“Hello, Batman.”

 

“You brood almost as well as he does. . . _did,”_ Dick answered. He may have been draped in Bruce’s costume, but the way his body cringed when he changed verb tense made it clear just how unlike Batman he really was.After all, Bruce had been nothing, if not a master at hiding how he felt.Clark had known that first hand. 

 

“I had a pretty good teacher.” 

 

Dick smiled a sad smile that looked so out of place with the cowl that Clark wished for the ability to want to laugh.“Yeah, he was the best.”

 

“I apologize for not letting you know I was in town,” Clark told him, purely out of years of habit. It was far easier to let the apology roll of his tongue than to wonder when he and Bruce had become so divided that such an act of contrition had become necessary.

 

“Superman, you don’t have to apologize.I know what you and he were to each other.” 

 

“Bitter enemies?”

 

“Before that.”

 

Before Bruce’s spy satellites. . . before Brother Eye. . . before his marriage to Lois. . . before the mind wipe. . .before Jason’s death. . . before Jason’s resurrection. “He told you?”

 

“He didn’t have to.The walls of the Manor aren’t that thick.I might only have been a teenager, but I wasn’t stupid.”

 

“I never thought of you as stupid.In fact, you were always my favorite Robin. I’m sorry. . . that we haven’t kept in touch.”

 

Dick gave a genuine smile at that, which looked even more ridiculous with the cowl.“You know the manor’s pretty empty at this point. . . "

 

“Are you done with patrol?”

 

“Pretty much. Unless you have an emergency waiting, you’re welcome to come back with me and play catch up.”

 

Clark cast a final glance back into Bruce’s room before lifting Dick into his arms and heading towards the Bat-cave.

\-----------------------------------------------------

 

For the first time since he’d been a star struck teenager, Dick sat cross-legged on the Manor’s living room floor across from Superman.Dick wasn’t sure what had possessed him to go to that roof tonight.He’d known, of course, that Clark had been holding a rooftop vigil since Bruce had checked himself into Arkham four weeks ago.Dick hadn’t actually intended on interrupting what had to be a private moment and he certainly hadn’t intended on inviting the other man back to the Manor. 

 

Although he still enjoyed the flight- even if he _was_ entirely too old to derive such childishjoy out of the experience.

 

Still, the look of quiet concentration that crossed Clark’s face was better than the broken alternative that had been on the roof an hour ago.

 

But Dick really hated chess.He leaned forward and moved his pawn anyway.

 

“Hmm,”Clark murmured before his queen overpowered Dick’s pawn. “I seem to remember you being better at this game when you were younger.”

 

Well, how sad was _that?_ A game relying on logic and tactical planning and he’d gotten _worse_ at it as he’d aged.“I’m a little out of practice.”

 

“It always was a bit more Bruce’s game.”

 

“Yeah.”Dick didn’t add, _‘And it’s not as though we’ve been close enough lately to play – even before the Arkham nonsense.’_ He figured that went without saying.Clark had been there, after all, the day his divide with Bruce had begun.

 

“I can’t even begin to imagine how much you must miss him.”

 

“Probably as much as you do.”Dick scowled at the chess board before hesitantly moving another doomed pawn forward. 

 

Clark actually took his time in obliterating this particular pawn before asking, casually as someone dropping a bomb, “Do you visit?”

 

“I . . . used to.He. . . doesn’t really recognize anyone anymore.”

 

“He still calls for you.”

 

Dick closed his eyes and fought against the anger that wanted to surface at the cruel truth that Bruce could only call for him when the man had officially gone crazy.“I know. Oracle has surveillance set up.”

 

“I’ve noticed.”Well, of course he had.“How is Oracle?”

 

“She’s busy.It’s really just the two of us trying to take care of Gotham. Since some Superbrat has kidnapped Robin.”There wasn’t really any malice in Dick’s voice.Hell, Tim might as well be happy since the rest of them weren’t. If running away to San Francisco with Kon and only calling back to Gotham once during the week to check on Bruce was what it took, more power to him. 

 

Clark apparently knew all about Kon and Tim’s exploits, because he tossed a smirk in Dick’s direction that most people would think out of character for the man.“Really? I thought there was a new Batgirl?”

 

“She decided she liked Bludhaven better.More challenging.” 

 

“Check.”Clark waited for Dick to move his king out of harm’s way before continuing.“I would have thought with Batgirl and Starfire holding down the fort in Bludhaven, at least one of your friends from the Outsiders could have come to Gotham to help out.”

 

Oh, that _hurt._ It wasn’t on purpose, of course, because intentionally rubbing salt in the wound to help someone heal was an entirely Bruce-like thing to do, and completely out of character for Clark.Besides, Clark had no idea what had happened over the past two years.Dick hadn’t kept in very good touch, and Clark and Bruce had been on the outs.But it still hurt, and reinforced that the room where he’d spent so much of his childhood engaged in debate with Bruce, in conversation with Alfred, and in awe of Superman now mostly felt empty – a nostalgic shell that was the very opposite of home, when he needed that sense of comfort most.

 

Clark was looking at him questioningly, and for the life of him, Dick didn’t know if it was because Clark was expecting an answer, or because it was his turn at chess.Clark didn’t really help matters when he suggested, in the same tone of voice Dick was sure he used on damsels in distress, “It’s your turn, Dick.”

 

Scowling at the hopeless pieces on the board, Dick wondered what sadistic bastard had ever invented chess anyway.It was, at heart, basically a game where a person was beaten into a corner until they didn’t have any other options.But he attempted to hide his king between a couple of left over pawns anyway.Even after he’d made his move, Clark continued to look expectantly at him, so Dick figured he was still expecting an answer.“I don’t really think any of the Outsiders will be wanting to see me for a while, Clark.”

 

“How come?”

 

It was such an innocent, _honest_ question.With Clark sprawled against Bruce’s favorite leather armchair, he looked so _good_ and _virtuous_ and _kind_ that it was all Dick could do to keep from crawling onto his lap and sobbing out every sin, each transgression, and all the mistakes he’d made over the past twenty-four months.Or longer. 

 

But that seemed selfish, somehow.Besides, he _couldn’t_.With Bruce indisposed he needed to be _strong._ Even the slightest consideration of his previous actions threatened to knock him to his knees.

 

“Dick?”

 

“It’s . . . complicated, Clark.”

 

With a quick move of his hand, Clark brushed aside Bruce’s marble chess set as though it were made of paper.There was nothing between them now, and that made it all the more tempting to cry on Clark’s shoulders. 

 

“I would hope that we’ve not grown so far apart that you wouldn’t still know there’s nothing you can’t talk to me about.”

 

“It’s a long story, really.I’d probably be in the middle of it when a crisis would come calling for Superman to handle.”

 

“I can think of no crisis more worth my time than helping a friend deal with his pain.”

 

The kindness is too much.Names and events tumbled out of his mouth and soon began to pour – punching the Joker. . . _beating_ the Joker. . .the Joker not getting up. . . Blockbuster. . .Tarantula. . . _“No”. . ._ Deathstroke. . . Rose. . . Thunder. . . _punching_ Roy. . . _leaving_ the Outsiders. . . 

 

When the names won’t come anymore, Clark was still looking at him with the same warm and friendly face that he wore before Dick’s confession started – as though Dick hadn’t revealed a couple dozen of his darkest secrets.Or as though Dick _wasn’t_ a horrible person who had strayed so completely from the way he’d always been raised to live his life. 

 

 _That look_ was almost enough to make Dick break in two. 

 

Clark must have realized the sheer power of his facial expression, because before Dick could say anything else, he was wrapped in those arms that felt as warm as the sun that powered them.Dick _couldn’t_ speak.Instead he just returned the hug and marveled that the room didn’t quite feel so cold anymore. 

 

“I too have done things to push my friends away,”Clark claimed, though Dick couldn’t believe that anyone would want to leave the comfort of those arms.“I have to believe that I can fix those relationships in time.” 

 

“What if you can’t?” 

 

“Then the best I can hope for is the wisdom not to repeat my mistakes in the future.If I can be a better friend to even _one_ person because of my errors, then my present pain will be worth it.”

 

And that’s why Clark was Superman – not because he was the strongest man alive, not because of his multitude of abilities, not because he could shoot lasers from his eyes, not because he could see through any material that wasn’t lead – but because he was just so _right._

 

It’s also why Dick didn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable continuing to find comfort in his grip, even though he would have felt completely ridiculous with anyone else.Clark didn’t seem to mind, because his fingers were currently drawing an intricate design on Dick’s back.They were truly delightful movements that sought out each and every one of the knots in his muscles with the exact purpose of untying them.

 

“Mmm.Lois is a lucky woman,” he murmured into Clark’s chest.At his words, the patterns briefly stopped, and Clark tensed. 

 

Refusing to let go, Dick did lean back to catch a glimpse of the pained expression that crossed the other man’s face. “What’s the matter?”

 

“It’s nothing.”The patterns began their movement, and Dick realized they were probably words.They weren’t English, which didn’t make them Kryptonian automatically.

 

“You know, I just showed you my dirty laundry.There isn’t really any reason you can’t do the same.”

 

Clark smiled softly at him.“Let’s just say that the woman who couldn’t live without me realized she couldn’t live _with_ me either.”

 

Dick wondered if it would be redundant to say that he knew the feeling.While his mind was still wondering that, his mouth decided to ask, “So that means you’re free, huh?”

 

When he realized what he’d actually said, and their implications, Dick half expected the patterns to stop again.Instead, their speed simply increased as Clark responded, “Yes, I suppose so.”

 

Dick’s mouth really wasn’t feeling up to consulting his brain tonight, for anything, really.That much became obvious when his mouth decided to reach up and kiss Clark square on the lips, without even pausing to consider the ramifications of the act.

 

The patterns on his back stopped, though, interestingly, only mid-way through the kiss.Clark broke the kiss but didn’t let go.Dick took the latter as an incredibly good sign. 

 

“Dick, I know you’re feeling vulnerable right now –"

 

“And so are you.”

 

“Well, yes. That’s why I don’t think we should begin something neither of us is ready to see through.”

 

“So, what you’re saying is that Superman is above having comfort sex?”

 

“Yes, I suppose he should be.”

 

Dick didn’t miss the third person pronoun. Nor did he miss that fact that _Clark still hadn’t let go._ “Hmm.What does Clark have to say about comfort sex?” 

 

The fingers began to tap indiscriminately on the back of left shoulder.It was a light tap by Superman’s standards, but Dick was willing to bet he’d still have a bruise there tomorrow morning. “I think . . . my parents would be horrified to know. . . that I think sometimes we all need a bit of comfort.”

 

“And a bit of sex.”

 

 _That_ was definitely a smile.It suddenly became very important for Dick to see that smile _above_ him.

 

“That too.Dick, I can’t offer you any long term commitment-"

 

“I can’t offer you any either.That already belongs to someone else – presuming I can fix that relationship.”Dick pushed the thought of those broad, freckled muscles out of his head.“I don’t want long term, Clark.I just want to feel _wanted._ ”

 

Clark stood up and pulled Dick’s body with him. “That does sound inviting.”

 

“Kind of goes with the theme of the evening, too. Don’t you think?”

 

This time when Clark picks him up and they take flight, Dick doesn’t think the giddiness he felt from flight was childish at all.Even if they didn’t necessarily _need_ to fly to the bedroom.

 

\----------------------

 

Later, when Dick’s body was exhausted and Clark’s was satisfied, Clark rose from the bed and began to get dressed.Dick’s mouth managed to connect with his brain long enough to mumble, “Since you’re in Gotham every night anyway, you could feel free to help out with the crime scene.”

 

“As long as it’s not stepping on your toes.”

 

Dick stifled a yawn. “Nope.” 

 

“Alright.I’ll see what I can do to help then.”

 

“ ‘Kay.”

 

Completely dressed, Clark leaned over and kissed Dick softly on the forehead.“Thank you.”

 

“Oh, no.The pleasure –" _yawn –_ “was all mine.”

 

Dick heard a soft chuckle, and was vaguely aware of Clark flying out the window.With the threat of being rude removed, Dick rolled back over and fell into a long dreamless sleep of the kind that he hadn’t had in months.He didn’t wake until it was time to go back on patrol.

\-----------------

Before Clark could get to work, Superman had to stop a tsunami off the coast of Japan, evacuate the victims of a lab explosion in England, save the survivors of an oil rig explosion in the middle of the Atlantic, and rescue one Mr. Snufflepuss from his ultimate demise in the form of a tree. 

 

Still, before heading back to Metropolis, Clark swung by Arkham one last time for one more peek before he began his day.Seeing that Bruce was content and asleep, Superman turned and flew home.


End file.
